


a soft day

by suddenlyatiger



Series: not one for long goodbyes [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 08:02:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14540313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suddenlyatiger/pseuds/suddenlyatiger
Summary: "I may be having a bit of a breakdown brought on by extreme exhaustion," Stiles says."You should sleep more," Scott says.





	a soft day

Stiles has been having A Day. And it's only 10AM.

 

He's running on about eight hours of sleep, spread out over the past few nights, and he's starting to get mildly concerned that he might be hallucinating. He leans over in his desk towards Scott.

 

"Dude, that's Harris, right?" He asks. Scott shoots him a confused look before turning back to the front of the room. Harris is setting himself up at Finstock's desk like that's a thing that happens often.

 

"Yup," he says.

 

"But this is Finstock's class," Stiles says. "Right?!"

 

"Yeah?" Scott says. "Are you okay, Stiles? I can hear your heart racing."

 

"I may be having a bit of a breakdown brought on by extreme exhaustion," Stiles says.

 

"You should sleep more," Scott says.

 

"Thanks, man, I hadn't thought of that," Stiles says sarcastically. He must say it a bit too loud because Harris looks up from his desk and instantly hones in on him.

 

"Mr Stilinski," he says, smirking. Stiles groans and lets his head fall to his desk with a 'thud'.

 

***

 

Derek only looks up from his book when his cellphone nearly vibrates itself off the bedside table.

 

He marks his place with a finger and leans over to grab the phone. The caller ID shows Stiles' picture (a close up of Stiles making a silly kissy face at the camera, because he's ridiculous), which is curious because Stiles should be in school right now. Derek accepts the call.

 

"Hello?" He asks cautiously.

 

"You need to come pick me up," Stiles says. The request would be more worrying if Derek couldn't hear the slight whininess in Stiles' voice. Most likely not in any real danger then. Derek reclines against his pillows and gropes around the bed for his bookmark.

 

"Already done with learning for the day?" Derek asks. "It's not even lunch yet."

 

"I'm so tiiiiiiiired," Stiles whines. There's a huff of laugher in the background that sounds like Scott. Derek can just picture it in his mind: Stiles draped limply against Scott as he talks into the phone. It's probably not even out of the realm of possibility that Scott is the one holding the phone.

 

"You should sleep more," Derek says.

 

"Ha! See?" Scott crows in the background.

 

"I hate you both," Stiles mumbles. "So much." Derek chuckles under his breath and finally snags his bookmark from under his sheets. He shoves it in his book and tosses the book on the bedside table as he gets to his feet.

 

"Relax, I'll come get you, just let me find my keys," Derek says.

 

"Ohmygod I love you so much!" Stiles exclaims. "Best boyfriend ever." Derek feels his cheeks heat and his lips stretch into a grin, thankful that there's no one there to see it and poke fun.

 

"I'll be there soon," he says. "Are you leaving your Jeep at the school?"

 

"Yeah, Lydia can drive it back later," Stiles says.

 

"Why can't I drive it?" Scott asks.

 

"Because you drove Allison to school today," Stiles says. "Also I've seen you try to drive my baby. Not pretty, dude." This is followed by a shout from Scott, but the call cuts off halfway through. Derek rolls his eyes and shoves his phone in his pocket, which reminds him that he's wearing sweatpants instead of jeans. He briefly debates changing, decides it really doesn't matter, and grabs his car keys on his way out of the loft.

 

***

 

The instant the bell rings for lunch Stiles is out of his seat like a shot.

 

Then he wavers on his feet and Scott has to keep him from tipping right back over. It turns out that sudden movements while extremely exhausted is not a good idea.

 

"I'm not sure I'm liking this new moving floor deal," Stiles says as Scott steadies him.

 

"How are you even upright right now?" Scott asks.

 

"I don't even know, dude," Stiles says. "Magic. Gotta be. Just aim me for the door." Scott picks up Stiles' schoolbag - which Stiles hasn't even opened all day – and forces Stiles' arms through the straps. Then he points Stiles in the direction of the classroom door and starts leading him out.

 

"So what have we learned about sleeping like a normal person?" Scott asks. He's behind Stiles and using him like a shield to push his way through the other students in the hallway headed for lunch.

 

"That it's probably a good idea but not something I've ever really been good at?" Stiles asks.

 

"What are you even doing when you aren't sleeping?" Scott asks. "Derek?" Stiles lets out an explosive burst of laughter that has a few nearby people sending him worried looks.

 

"Dude, I wish!" He exclaims. "No I've just been researching. D'you know how much stuff there is out there about witches?"

 

"I think maybe you should relax on that for now," Scott says. "There hasn't been any witches since that kid last week. Hasn't really been any before him, either, now that I think about it."

 

"Better safe than dead," Stiles says. The gash on Stiles' thigh, courtesy  of the kid from the week before, still aches on and off and stings when Stiles cleans it. Stiles downplayed his injury when he got it and he still downplays it now if anyone (especially his dad and Derek) brings it up, but he knows that it could've been a lot worse.

 

Aggressive research gives Stiles' anxiety something to focus on so that they won't get caught off-guard next time (and there definitely will be a next time, there's always a next time in Beacon Hills). Though this preparedness does sometimes come with a price.

 

"I really think you worry too much," Scott says, steering Stiles toward his locker.

 

"I think you don't worry enough," Stiles says. "I have to do it for both of us." Stiles fumbles with the lock on his locker a few times, then just gives up on it. He doesn't really need anything out of it anyway. "Fuck it."

 

"You want me to try?" Scott asks.

 

"Don't bother," Stiles sighs. "We both know I'm not gonna do any work anyway. Point me at the doors; Derek should be here by now."

 

"Yeah, I think I can smell him," Scott says.

 

"Awesome. Get me out of here."

 

***

 

Derek parks his car in the pick-up lane in front of the school and doesn't plan on getting out. Then he sees Stiles emerge from the double entrance doors, stumble on the first step, and almost pitch head-first down the stairs. He catches himself, and there is nothing Derek could've done if he hadn't, but Derek still bursts out of the car anyway.

 

"Derek!" Stiles exclaims, grinning broadly at him.

 

"Stiles," Derek says. Stiles is a few steps higher than Derek, so when he suddenly slumps down on Derek's shoulder he has farther than usual to fall. Derek catches him easily though, then spots Scott over Stiles' shoulder.

 

"He's in your hands now," Scott says, then backs through the doors with a parting grin.

 

"I've got him," Derek says. Stiles snuffles against Derek's neck and goes mostly limp. There are a few students exiting the school and spreading out through the parking lot. Some of them shoot Stiles and Derek confused looks. Derek ignores them and pats Stiles' hip.

 

"C'mon, I'll take you home," he says.

 

"I need to show you what I found out about witches," Stiles says, steadying himself on his feet. "There's some really-- Hey!" Stiles' offended squawk gets them some attention, and heads turn to look as Derek picks Stiles up under the arms and starts walking him the rest of the way down the steps.

 

"Are you seriously _carrying_ me right now?" Stiles asks.

 

"I am," Derek says. He doesn't put Stiles back on the ground until they've reached the Camaro.

 

"I'm not sure whether I should be angry or turned on," Stiles says, patting absently at Derek's arms.

 

"I'll settle for tired," Derek says. "Let's table the witch issue for now and focus on getting you into bed."

 

"Yes," Stiles says. "Brilliant idea, Derek."

 

"To _sleep_."

 

"Aw."

 

***

 

Stiles comes to with a loud groan as Derek shakes him awake.

 

"Whyyyyyyyyyyyy are you doing this to meeeeee," he whines. Derek is laughing as he tugs Stiles out of the car. Stiles keeps his eyes closed and is content to let Derek hold him up.

 

"You can't sleep in the car, people will think I'm trying to stash a dead body," Derek says. "Besides, I have a nice bed upstairs."

 

"But that's all the way up there," Stiles whines.

 

"But so worth the walk," Derek says.

 

"Ugh!"

 

"C'mon." Derek slings an arm around Stiles' shoulders and leads the way into the building and up the stairs to the loft. Stiles is still half-asleep and mostly stumbles up the stairs, but Derek is very good about not mentioning it.

 

Once they're in the loft with the door shut behind them, Stiles forces his eyes open and makes a beeline for Derek's bed. Which is, indeed, quite nice. He face-plants on it with a tired groan.

 

"This bed is amazing," he says. "I live here now."

 

"Not with your shoes on, you don't," Derek says, somewhere behind him.

 

"Ugh," Stiles grunts. He toes his shoes off and lets them drop to the floor. Then, while he's still somewhat mobile, shimmies out of his jeans as he pulls himself closer to the head of the bed. He thinks he hears Derek make some sort of noise in the background, but Stiles just ignores it, too pre-occupied with making himself comfortable among Derek's blankets and pillows.

 

He manages to wrap himself haphazardly in the blankets, probably making a complete mess of the bed but honestly he's too snug and cozy to care.

 

"You're going to sweat to death in all that," Derek says.

 

"Mmmm," Stiles hums. "Shut up and cuddle me." He hears Derek huff out a laugh, then he feels the bed dip next to him. Stiles wriggles around in his blanket cocoon until he gets his head completely free. He watches as Derek makes himself comfortable on the bed, which apparently involves pulling Stiles as close to his side as he can. Which Stiles is absolutely not complaining about. Derek nuzzles Stiles' head briefly before tucking Stiles' head into the space between Derek's neck and shoulder. Stiles burrows in with a contented sigh and closes his eyes. It's already a bit too hot in all his blankets, but he can't even care as he slips off into sleep.

 

***

 

Derek listens as Stiles' heartbeat evens out to a calm rhythm as he sinks into a deep sleep. Then he waits an extra five minutes, just to be sure, before starting to loosen all the blankets Stiles has wrapped around himself. He leaves Stiles wrapped up in just one blanket (he doesn't really need any more than that, and Derek doesn't think he can handle having Stiles in his bed with no pants on – his ears are still a bit red from watching Stiles slide out of his jeans earlier) and uses the others to make a crude nest.

 

He grabs his book from the bedside table and holds it open with one hand while wrapping his other arm around Stiles, who snuggles into Derek's embrace.

 

It's quiet in the loft; the loudest sounds are from the distant traffic outside and Stiles' heartbeat and breathing. The sun is shining through the windows, lighting up everything it touches. Derek settles further into the mattress and continues reading.

 

All in all, it's not a bad way to spend an afternoon.


End file.
